


Facing the Nightmare

by Hydriatus



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Fantasizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydriatus/pseuds/Hydriatus
Summary: When confronting her fear, Entrapta stumbles sideways into another feeling entirely...
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 136





	Facing the Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [B_Dazzled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Dazzled/gifts).



Entrapta knew of nightmares of course. Who didn’t?

Everyone had them at least once in their lives, their minds reacting to the stress of their lives. And there was much to stress about in Etheria – from subtle things, like the bounty of a harvest in a poor year, to the drastic, such as a Horde attack.

The Princess of Dryl had suffered the occasional nightmare growing up, her young mind conjuring appropriate fears. Fangs and claws, shadowed eyes, a _hunger_ prowling through the darkness. All classic fears, leftovers from a time before science - when the people of Etheria had to contend with wild beasts and wilder climes to survive.

It was all _so_ silly, looking back on it.

How easily she had believed the fanciful tales coming from the mysterious regions surrounding what came to be known as the Fright Zone. She laughed at the memory of waking up in a cold sweat after having dreamed of being stalked through the shadowed corridors of her own castle by some monster with gleaming red eyes and a sharp silhouette.

How foolish.

Such things weren’t to be feared – they were to be understood. Fear was simply an expression of doubt, an assumption of the worst in the face of the unknown. So, the surest way to banish fear was to shine a light on the darkness it hid in.

Entrapta had been in her teens when she had taken to confronting the fears that prowled her lonely nights in Dryl.

* * *

She remembers the dream, as it stopped being a nightmare the moment she stopped running. She liked to think that she had found her courage, or that her curiosity had finally won out over her apprehension, but she knew that in truth her mind had simply run out of assumed terrors.

With the war against the Horde consuming Etheria, they finally had a name and a face to associate with the industrious hunger that devoured the land, replacing the grass and trees with steel and glass.

**Hordak.** A monster wearing cold metal over a colder heart.

That is what had taken to pursuing her through the dark and endless corridors of her own castle. But in a way, she had grown glad. It wasn’t just a mystery now – this was something she could study, learn about! And she had, collating all the information that filtered into Dryl about the Horde, learning all she could so she would no longer be afraid – she was too old for such childishness after all.

And so one day, it happened. Her nightmare became….well, not something less. She still blushed at the memory, which was a ridiculous thing to do for a woman of her age. It had become….well, not a nightmare, certainly not, even if it set her heart racing -

She automatically reached up and pulled down her mask, hiding her flushed cheeks from nobody as she allowed the memory to consume her for the moment. It was fine, there was nothing that needed doing right now, she could reminisce…

* * *

...about the way she had ran down the stairs of the castle, deep into the dungeons, even though her castle didn't even have a basement let alone a _dungeon_. Honestly she blamed some of the reading material she had found stashed by Baker in one of the rooms that doubled as a library, having only gone in in search of an old reference book only to find – well, what she could only summarise was _inspiration_ for what came next.

She had fled deep into her castle’s dungeons, the towering, shadowed form of Lord Hordak (that should have been her first clue, he had never been _Lord_ Hordak before – monster’s didn't bear noble titles) striding after her. He never ran, no – he always moved with the ease and languid pace of a predator knowing its prey was only tiring itself out.

Every time she glanced over her shoulder, she could see him, his footfalls heavy and steady, like a countdown. She felt cold as burst through a door, only to be confronted with a bare room – no, a cell. She felt her heart plummet as she turned in place, her eyes glancing about whilst her hair reached out to prod and poke the walls surrounding her.

She was trapped.

And that was alright, she relaised with a sense of detachment. Fear was merely the absence of knowing what was coming – and in this case, she had a very good idea of what was about to happen to her before she would inevitably awaken in her bed, covered in a sheen of cold sweat -

Lord Hordak chuckled as he approached the doorway to the bare stone cell. Entrapta froze at the new sound – rough and deep and rolling, something that echoed all around her, a threat – no, a _promise_. She shivered as she stared at the imposing form of the monster terrorising the world she knew as he stepped into the cell.

The red eyes, glowing in the darkness like dim lamps focused solely on her as if she was… was… some sort of _specimen_ he couldn’t wait to study. Eyes that only saw her. They were alone in this cell, and Entrapta felt a dark thrill at the attention – a heady blend of panic from an animal part of her mind knowing it was being targeted, but also an odd warmth at attention reserved exclusively for her.

Not in her utility, but herself.

“Princess,” growled the spectre of Lord Hordak as it approached, shoulders so broad they blocked her view of her only escape from the room – _cell_. The stories always made sure to mention the height of Lord Hordak, how he towered over everyone in Etheria, looking down on them in quite the literal sense.

Entrapta had never been particularly tall, and had to crane her head back to keep her eyes on the man’s face as more details became apparent as he closed the distance between them with every. Inevitable. Step.

His skin was pale, with a faint blue tint that made her think of frost. His features were sharp, angular, as if even his face would make her bleed if it were to brush against her. His hair was a dishevelled mohawk, coloured the dark blue of midnight. His smile – no, it was better called a smirk, betrayed the presence of sharp teeth beneath his pale lips.

There was a creak of metal. Entrapta was frozen in place, staring at the monster before her, making no move to resist as he reached out with a metal clad hand, the talons glinting in the dark as they reached for her.

Some small part of her screamed in her mind, and she moved, raising her arms to fend of the grasping claws, a squeak of alarm escaping her lips as she tried to move away from him. Instead, the towering man’s talons found her arm, wrapping around her wrist and wrenching it up and away, his other claw grabbing her other wrist and doing the same.

Entrapta felt a thrill of… somehting course through her at her sudden helplessness. Her hair lay limp, refusing to move no matter how much she willed it to. And yet she wasn’t afraid. Fear was cold. This… was warm and comfortable. Her skin felt hot, as if she was in the throes of a fever, and the cool touch of Lord Hordak’s metal clad hands on her wrist was almost like a balm and _**-**_

A forked tongue had darted out from amidst a row of fangs, flickering across the skin of her neck. It felt feather-light, almost gentle, as it tasted her. _Like a reptile_ , her mind supplied, even as the touch sent more blood rushing to her face. The tongue dragged across her skin, working up to the edge of her jaw, leaving a tingling cool trail on her skin.

“I can taste your fear,” the legendary master of the Fright Zone declared quietly, his red eyes filling her vision, a faint smirk tugging at his pale lips. Pale lips hiding a dextrous tongue that had _soothed_ as it had run across her skin and _what was that?_

The Princess of Dryl felt her skin prickling into goosebumps as Lord Hordak’s chilly breath caressed her skin, her back suddenly hitting the hard stone surface of the dungeon wall. He had lifted her and carried her across the cell and she hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in the myriad of conflicting sensations assaulting her.

His face drew closer, his mouth parting to allow the slithering tongue to reach out and run across her cheek, cooling her burning skin. She let out a little sigh at the unexpected relief, the sound morphing into something certainly less decent as the tongue traced a path down this time, making it’s way down her neck. His fangs scraped ever so slightly against her skin as he leaned down, making her whole body shudder.

Lord Hordak paused at that, and chuckled again before biting down on the collar of her white shirt, the points of his fangs scratching her lightly before he yanked his head back, tearing the material. She turned her flushed face away, unable to keep looking at the _hunger_ on the monstrous face without it stoking the fire raging inside her now. She had never been this… exposed in front of someone before.

Her white shirt had been split in two, hanging in tatters of her shoulders now. Her purple bra could clearly be seen against her heated skin. A gem of embarrassment formed deep in the pit of Entrapta’s heart, and she forced her eyes shut, trying to block out the dream. She would wake up soon – her mind would be unable to continue conjuring sensations for much longer -

Oh, but she just _had_ to have such a **good** imagination didn’t she?

Lord Hordak brought her wrists together, pinning them above her head with one taloned hand. The other came down, gently running down her face, the claws just piercing the skin, drawing droplets of blood. Then the pressure eased as he traced the line of her throat, his touch ghosting across her skin as it went lower, lower, tracing the paths her own fingers had travelled a few times in the past, when the mood had struck her…

Oh, _this_ was going to be one of _those_ dreams now, she realized with sudden clarity, her eyes snapping open. She was blushing furiously now, the gem of embarrassment flourishing inside of her. But why Lord Hordak?! Why did her mind confront her fear with this -

His talons ran across her breast as they followed the curve into the valley of her cleavage. He had leaned in again and his forked tongue was running across the bleeding scratches he had left behind on her cheek. It was all too much, too much stimulation. Entrapta felt a soft moan slip out of her lips, her thighs rubbing together as the heat running through her suddenly seemed to be coming from the bundle of nerves down there.

There was a scoff from the man holding her as he savoured the taste of her blood, his tongue so rough and cool and _nice_. Wherever it ran it cooled the flame that threatened to burn her up from the inside, and she couldn’t help but want it… _everywhere_ , much to her own horror.

The claws at her breasts pulled down, slicing through the material of her bra, exposing her further to the beast that held her at his mercy. She should have been cold, her mind noted. But her body was certainly not paying attention to her reason, growing warmer yet at being so on _display_ to a stranger.

“Such a curious creature,” hummed Lord Hordak, letting his gaze rove over her flesh, noting her discomfort.

It was… _fascinating_ , to be the specimen for once. To be the sole focus of attention. Her, and not her creations. And – _what was_ _ **this**_ _?!_

His fangs. On her breast. His breath – _cold, not hot_ – feeling so right blowing against the sensitive skin there. She wasn’t usually that sensitive, but it seemed her dream self was far more keyed into her physical senses than she was.

And then she felt his tongue flick out over her nipple and anything resembling coherent thought became oh so very unimportant as she bucked in his grip. That was… strange. And new. And **definitively** worth further investigation. 

Another chuckle, and  _oooh_ weren’t those becoming sweet to her ears, the fearsome Lord of the Horde relishing in teasing out these reactions from her, no matter how hard she fought to deny him the satisfaction. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her own curiosity getting the better of her,  looking down at Lord Hordak for the first time since this dream had begun. He was biting her, and ooh did that feel so  _good_ \- wrong! It felt wrong!

Entrapta felt her cheeks continue to burn in embarrassment, as well as something far more base and primal.  Her breathing was shallow as she stared down, unable to resist the urge to run her hands – bare, not gloved -through the messy blue tuft of hair adorning the monster’s scalp. Would it be like a bristly bush, she wondered through the haze settling on her mind as she yielded to the comforting sensations running through her. 

A nd then she felt Lord Hordak’s claw glide lower, even as he continued to suckle and nip at her breasts, each bite making her jump and whine, though to her horror she couldn’t tell if it was in protest or encouragement.  The cold talon traced a path down her chest, over her navel, coming to a rest just at the edge of her overalls. 

The princess let loose a delirious moan, unable to articulate words, but Lord Hordak’s ears perked at the sound, understanding.  He hooked the edge of her overalls and begun to slide them down, down over her hips, letting them pool around her ankles as his claws ran down over her, scraping the inside of her thighs and making Entrapata close her eyes and sigh in momentary relief, the fire raging in her core stilling as he drew close. 

S he shifted her hips, trying to press against his palm, and thank goodness he cuaght onto her meaning as his hand began to run back up her thigh, cupping her as she bit her lip in tortured ecstasy - 

- and then he slipped a talon past her folds, and  _he was in her_ , and  **oooh** it was so wrong but so  **perfect** and she was crying out in release now, bucking her hips wildly against his hand, trying to push him deeper still - 

* * *

\-  and she had awoken, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, panting heavily. She had lain still, her sheets a twisted and tangled mess all around from where she had undoubtedly been tossing and rolling all night. She could still remember feeling a needy throbbing in her lower half.

Her hair had snaked out, and seized her discarded pillow, before pressing it against her face as she had screamed in frustration. An act that would become far too familiar to the Princess of Dryl in the weeks that followed.   



End file.
